Stand By The Union by Oliver Optic (top 10 best books of all time .txt) 📖

I wanted to be in this stir-up."

"I have no doubt you will work your way up in good time," added Christy, who saw that Pennant was an intelligent and reliable man, though it was possible from the appearance of his face that he had been in the habit of imbibing too much whiskey for his own good.

In a short time the Vernon was alongside the flag-ship. Christy had put his uniform coat in his valise, and still wore the frock he had taken from it. He had removed his linen collar, and put on a woollen shirt and a seaman's cap, for he did not care to be taken for an officer among the crew. He carried his valise to the vicinity of the forehatch, and looked up through the opening to ascertain what he could of the movements on board.

"There comes the Bronx," said a seaman standing at the head of the ladder.

"Ay, ay; and she is coming alongside the Vernon," added another.

120 The store-ship had been made fast to the flag-ship, and at this moment came a call for all hands to go aft. Christy could not endure the suspense any longer, and taking his valise in his hand he went on deck, just as the Bronx came alongside. Mr. Flint was on duty with a couple of young officers, and gave the orders to make her fast to the Vernon. Captain Battleton was going up the side of the flag-ship, followed by Corny.

Christy put his valise in a convenient place, and then concealed himself in the firemen's quarters under the top-gallant forecastle. He found a place beneath a bunk which would effectually conceal him unless a very thorough search should be made for him. But he only kept this place as a resort in case of emergency, for he placed himself where he could see out at the door; and it was a good location to overlook all that took place on the quarter-deck where the officers were, and the waist where the men had been assembled.

The second lieutenant was calling over a list of names, which Christy concluded was the draft of seamen for the Bronx. Possibly Captain Passford had used some influence in this selection, 121 for all the other hands were to be put on board of the flag-ship to be assigned to such vessels as needed to be reinforced by the officers of the staff.

As the names were called the men passed over to the starboard side, with their bags in their hands, for there was evidently to be no delay in making the transfer. But it was a full hour before Captain Battleton and Corny returned from the flag-ship. The prisoner on the forecastle thought his cousin looked very complacent, and his return indicated that his plot had not miscarried, and that the flag-officer had not challenged the identity of the future commander of the Bronx.

Corny's first movement on board of the Vernon was to take the hand of Mr. Galvinne, whom he appeared to be congratulating on a promotion or appointment. The second lieutenant promptly handed his lists to the third lieutenant, Mr. Winter, who proceeded with the calling of the names. Corny and Mr. Galvinne immediately went below, and Christy concluded that the officer he had spotted as the traitor had been appointed to the little gunboat, either as first or second 122 lieutenant, and that they were making their preparations to go on board of her. In a few minutes they appeared with the steward of the ward room carrying their baggage.

Corny politely saluted Mr. Flint, the acting commander of the gunboat. Mr. Galvinne was introduced, and there was plenty of bowing and formal politeness. Corny presented his commission and orders for the inspection of the officer in command, and for the present the formalities were completed. Corny was evidently in command of the Bronx; but Christy could not determine the position of Mr. Flint, and he watched his movements with intense interest for some time.

The late acting-commander did not leave the deck, as he would have been likely to do if he had been relieved and ordered to report on board of the flag-ship, though he might have been superseded as executive officer,—a position which he was clearly entitled to hold. A little later, the draft of seamen were ordered to file on board of the Bronx. Then the observer saw Mr. Galvinne, with a rather pompous gesture point to the men who were coming on board, and say something he 123 could not hear to Mr. Flint. He had evidently directed him to receive the seamen as they came on deck. This indicated that the late second lieutenant of the Vernon had been appointed executive officer of the Bronx.

Christy felt that the time for action had come. Taking his valise in his hand he joined the file of men, and cleverly inserting himself between a couple of them, he went on the deck of the Bronx without being challenged as to his right to do so. Doubtless Captain Battleton had reported that he had a prisoner on board, though he had not had time to tell the whole story of the investigation, which had probably been postponed to a more convenient time. Mr. Flint went forward to receive the seamen as they came on deck, and he ordered them to pipe below and leave their bags there.

"Where is your bag?" asked Mr. Flint, as Christy, the actual commander of the Bronx, passed him. "What are you doing with a valise?"

"I have no bag, sir," replied Christy in submissive tones.

"Find a bag, for we shall throw that valise overboard," added Mr. Flint.

124 "I don't think you will, sir, after the circumstances have been explained."

Suddenly the officer started back, and began to look very sharply at the presumed sailor. But the file pressed behind him, and Christy was too glad to move with it to delay a moment longer. He went below to the familiar quarters of the crew, and saw many of his old seamen still on board, though many of them had been taken to reinforce other vessels.

Christy deposited his valise in a secure place near the door leading into the steerage. All hands were on deck attending to the transfer of seamen, even to the stewards. The way was clear, and the late prisoner promptly decided what to do. He thought the captain's cabin was the proper place for him, and he went there.

125 CHAPTER XI LAYING OUT A PLAN OF OPERATIONS

Christy had deposited his valise in a place where it was not likely to be seen unless a search was made for it. There was no one in the ward room to obstruct his advance to the captain's cabin. He had served as acting-commander of the vessel in a voyage from New York to the Gulf, and been the executive officer on board for a short term, and he was perfectly at home in every part of her. In the conspiracy on his last voyage in the Bronx, Pink Mulgrum had concealed himself under the berth in the captain's stateroom, where Dave, the cabin steward, had discovered him, though he might have remained there a month if his hiding-place had not been suspected.

Christy thought this would be an excellent retreat for him, not only because it promised him the greatest security, but because it would permit 126 him to hear what passed between the pretended commander and others, especially Mr. Galvinne. He had been reasonably confident of returning to the gunboat when he went to the North as prize master, though not as her commander, and he had left his trunk on board.

It was a humiliating posture for the actual commander of the vessel, but he promptly got down upon the floor of the stateroom, and crawled under the berth. He placed the trunk and some other articles there so as to form a sort of breast-work, behind which he carefully bestowed himself. It was not an uncomfortable position, for the floor was carpeted and an old satchel filled with his cast-off garments furnished him a pillow sufficiently soft for a person on extraordinary duty.

The cabin was to be occupied by Corny, though his cousin had no doubt that Mr. Galvinne was the real leader in the adventure of capturing the steamer. Both of them would be obliged to keep up appearances for the present. Christy's first thought after he had settled himself in his new quarters related to the cabin steward, who had served him very faithfully, and whom he had 127 brought off in the Teaser, the former name of the Bronx. He had no doubt he was still on board, and probably acting in his former capacity, for Mr. Flint knew that he was attached to the man for the service he had rendered, not only to him but to his country. He was absolutely sure that Dave could be trusted under any and all circumstances, and the first thing he did would be to make a connection with him.

Christy became rather impatient because the Bronx did not get under way; but he concluded from such sounds as came to his ears that she was taking in shot, shells, and powder, as well as stores and supplies. At any rate, neither Corny nor his first lieutenant came into the cabin, so far as he could ascertain. But he had not been in his hiding-place an hour before he heard a noise in the adjoining apartment. It was not the commander, for the noise was an occasional rapping; it was not an unfamiliar sound to him, for he had often heard it before when he lay in his berth. Dave was a remarkably neat person, and he was always dusting the cabin and stateroom when he had nothing else to do. He was sure that the rapping was caused by the steward's feather duster.

128 In a few minutes, when he had made the cabin tidy for the reception of "Massa Cap'n Passford," he transferred his labors to the stateroom. He worked in the berth and all its surroundings, including the desk, which still contained the real commander's papers, and then gave his attention to the trunk beneath.

"Dave," said Christy, after he had obtained a view of the back of the steward's head which satisfied him that he was the right man.

"Mullygumps!" exclaimed Dave, as he suspended his labors on the trunk.

No doubt he was greatly surprised to hear his name, pronounced as though it came up through the deck, as he had abundant reason to be.

"Dave," repeated Christy, in a more decided tone after he had heard the voice of the steward.

"Is that you, Pink Mulgrum?" demanded Dave. "I give you the whole State of Alabama, but I thought we done rid of you long ago. Who's there?"

"Don't you know me, Dave?" asked Christy, speaking out plainly so that the steward might recognize his voice.

"Maggywogs! That sounds like Massa Christy's 129 voice; but I done seen him on deck five or ten minutes ago."

"No, you didn't, Dave; that was Corny," replied Christy.

"Gollywops! But he was in command of the Bronx, for I done seen Mr. Flint hand it over to him. Go 'way! You can't fool this colored person."

"I tell you the truth, Dave; but things are mixed," added Christy.

"I believe you; they be mixed if you be the captain when I done seen him on deck just now."

"Sit down on the floor, Dave, and I will tell you all about it," continued Christy, though the difficulty of convincing the steward was not unexpected.

"Let me see your face before you told me anything," persisted Dave, as he pulled out one end of the trunk, and dropped upon his knees where he could see under the berth.

Christy crawled to the front of the berth, and thrust his head out into the stateroom in as natural a position as he could place it.

"Wollywogs! You look like Massa Christy, for sure," exclaimed Dave, as he gave himself up 130 to a study of the face presented to him. "But the captain looks like Massa Christy too."

"You have never seen my cousin Corny, I believe, Dave; but he looks like me. Now sit down, and I will tell you all about it."

"I never saw Massa Corny; but I done hear enough about him when I was at Bonnydale. Show me your knife and your watch, Massa Christy."

He complied with the request, as he saw that it was a very simple means of identification, for the steward had some skill as a mechanic, and he had frequently sharpened the knife, and knew the repeater of the lieutenant from having seen it so often, for it was a very peculiar watch. Dave's last doubt vanished when these articles were produced.

"But